Confessions of a Teenage Sex Addict
by 50ShadesofGerardGay
Summary: God isn't kind to everyone.
1. Chapter 1

I was in a bad mood. Still am.

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><p>"<strong>Chapter 1"<strong>

I step to my mirror and take off my shirt. As I unbutton each button, I winces in pain; my chest is still sore from my earlier beating. I can see the welts on the tops of my breasts clearly; they are long, red lines that remind me of the hell I'm in.

Next, I lower one bra strap at a time and slowly pull the cups down under my breasts. My nipples, normally light brown like her hazel eyes are tinged red with her own blood along with small scars and open wounds surrounding them.

I grab my rag and soak it in the cold water in the sink. Gently, I wipe away the caked and still flowing blood. I grab bandages from my first aid kit behind my mirror and place them on the larger cuts on my breasts. Tears flowing down my eyes, I turn the water on in the shower and let the water run down into the tub.

I turn back to the mirror. Looking back at me is a torn, broken girl with bruises and smeared make up all over her face. Her hair is in messy curls around her face and her bottom lip is busted, like it normally is on nights like tonight.

Refusing to look at myself anymore, I take off the rest of my clothes and get in the shower. I sit in the tub and hug my knees as hot water beats against my skin. Here, I start sobbing, thankful that monster can't hear me in my room's personal shower. Sitting there, I wonder why God-if there even is one-would ever think I deserved something like this.

The first time it happened, I was in my room playing with my stuffed animals when my door creaked open. When I saw my mom's head, I greeted her with a smile. I got up and ran to her for a hug. She picked me up and carried me to my bed. She smiled at me when she put me on the bed. "I have a new game I want to play, Butterfly," she told me.

"What is it, Mommy?" I asked. She gently started pulling at my shirt and grinned widely. "We're going to play Doctor," she told me. I clapped my hands excitedly. She grabbed my hands and lost her grin. "But you can't tell anyone we've played this or play it with anyone else. Okay?" I nodded and she smiled again.

"I'm going to take off your dress and feel your heartbeat okay?" she asked. I nodded and she slipped my dress over my head. She placed her index finger in the middle of my chest. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "There it is. Put your hand right here."

She grabbed my hand and placed it in the spot where she had her finger. "I don't feel anything," I said incredulously. She moved my hand down to my nipple. "How about now?" she asked. I shook my head and she began rubbing my hand over my nipple. "Now?" I shook my head. "Mommy I feel a little funny," I told her. She faked a gasp. "That means you're very sick, Butterfly," she lied. "I need to hurry up and make you feel better. Lay down for Mommy?"

I nodded and laid down for her. She slowly slid off my underwear. "Open your legs for me, Sweetie," she commanded. I complied wordlessly and she looked at my exposed vagina. She frowned. "Oh yes," she began, "You're very sick, baby. I'm gonna feel around to see if I can find what's making you sick. It might hurt a little so I'll need you to be a big girl for Mommy. Will you be a big girl for me?" I nodded again and put my hands on my stomach, watching her every move.

Then, she put one finger inside me and began pushing it in and out of me. At first, I started to feel a little pain. I gripped the covers under me and closed my eyes. Then, she put more fingers inside of me and I gripped the covers tighter. I kept myself quiet so I would make Mommy happy and proud that I was a big girl. She put all of her fingers on her right hand in me and moved faster.

After a few minutes later, my body shook and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I had my first orgasm. She saw this and stopped moving her fingers inside me. "That's a good girl," she told me proudly.

I was only three years old the night I'd lost my virginity.

Around the age of ten, I started to fill my body out. I'd grown into a B cup and my hips were starting to curve. The boys at school noticed my changes...and so did my mother.

The next biggest event that I remember before she went to jail was one night when I was at that age. It was after school when it happened. I called home during lunch to ask my mom if I could stay the night a friend's house and she told me I couldn't; she said I had to come straight home. And that's exactly what I did.

When I got home, Mom was sitting in a big chair in the living room. "What took you so long to get home?" she asked. I put my bag on the couch. "I had to tell Samantha why I couldn't stay at her house and we went to go get something to eat," I explained. "I should've called. I'm sorry, Mama."

She stood up. "You've been a bad girl, Butterfly," she told me. "But because I love you and you were honest with me, I'm going to give you a very special treat. But you also get a little bit of punishment."

I stood at the doorway with my arms crossed, afraid of what was going to happen. She picked up a bag from the floor and took one of my arms. "Come with me, Butterfly," she demanded.

She took me into her room; this was different because she always played with me in my room. "Lay down," she instructed. I did as told and her hands moved to my shirt. "You're growing into such a big girl," she told me. She took off my shirt and ran her hands over the cups of my bra. First she slipped my straps off my shoulders than pulled my bra down to my waist.

"When did you get such beautiful breasts, Butterfly?" she asked smiling. I said nothing; I didn't know how to answer her. "I'm going to give them both a few kisses, okay?" I nodded.

Her head moved to my right breast and she began kissing in places around my nipple. Her lips touched my nipple and she began to suck it. Her right hand moved to my left breast and she started caressing it, occasionally twirling my nipple between her fingers. Then she switched breasts and repeated her motions.

She pulled her head away and smiled at me. "You're so beautiful, Baby girl." I remember wearing a skirt that day, and I remember her hands sliding up my inner thighs. She slid off my underwear and pulled my skirt up a little to expose my vagina.

She reached over under her bed and pulled up what I now know was a strap-on. "This is for being a good girl," she breathed. She un-zipped her pants, pulled them down along with her underwear, and strapped the thing on. She spread my legs and wrapped them around her waist, putting the tip of the strap-on inside me.

She pushed the rest of it in slowly and pulled it out fast. Then she pushed it inside me quickly with a lot of force and pulled it out slowly. "Sit up, Butterfly," she ordered. I sat up without a word and she pressed me against the head board. She started pushing the strap-on in and out of me again, this time at the same speeds.

I started to let out noises of pain but I tried to stifle them by biting my bottom lip. My mother leaned into me and kissed me to get me to stop biting my lip. "It's okay, Butterfly," she told me. She kissed me again. "You can make all the noises you want."

She kissed me plenty of times while she pulsed the strap-on into me and I finally felt the shiver that meant I had my orgasm. My mom was playing with my tongue when I had it and she chuckled softly into the kiss. She pulled away from me and looked me in my eyes. "Now it's time for your punishment," she told me.

She pulled the strap-on out of me and moved away from me. "I want you to get on your hands and knees," she told me. I got on my knees and crawled past her, stopping when my hands were close to the foot of the bed. As I did so, my skirt fell over me and back to normal. Her hands gripped the back of my thighs and she slid my skirt back up to my waist.

"This is going to hurt," she stated. She took the strap-on and stuck the tip of it into my ass. I let out a small noise of pain and lowered my head. Her hands found their way to my hips and she began shoving the strap-on into me harder and faster. "Your ass is so tight, Butterfly," she said.

As she began moving faster, her body leaned over me and she had her hands on my breasts. She pressed herself against me and I could feel her bare breasts on my back through my hair. She had taken her blouse off while I wasn't looking.

"Mama it hurts too much," I cried. She didn't listen. She kept pushing into me as hard as she could. "This is your punishment, Baby," she reminded me. "It's almost over." She moved as fast as she could and squeezed my breasts tightly. I screamed a little from the pain but she wouldn't stop. A few minutes later, she gradually began to slow down and ease up on me. She finally pulled out and let go of my breasts, leaning up.

I was afraid to move at all, so I just kept my position on the bed. She placed her hands on my shoulders and yanked me up to her, pulling me against her breasts. "I've got something I want you to do now, Baby girl," she whispered in my ear.

One of her hands left my shoulders and I heard the velcro of her strap-on undoing. She grabbed one of my hands and pulled it back between her legs. "Do you feel my pussy, Care Bear?" she asked. I nodded slightly. She moved my hair and kissed the side of my neck. "Do you want to taste it, Baby?" she asked. I knew the answer she wanted and I nodded.

She moved away from me and turned me around. "Taste as much as you want," she ordered. She moved so her back was against the head board of her bed and opened her legs wide. I didn't want to taste her at all, but I was afraid of what she would do to me if I didn't. I don't remember if she ever hit me, and I wasn't about to see if she would.

I crawled to her and pressed my lips to the lips of her vagina. I let my tongue touch the inside of her vagina and slowly licked up and down it. She placed one of her hands on the back of my head. I moved my tongue up to her clit and began to circle it. "Faster," she breathed out.

I began to circle her clit faster and flicked it a few times with my tongue. She moaned loudly with every movement and her other hand soon found its way to my head. As I continued to lick, her moaning grew louder and she began pushing my head closer to her vagina. I couldn't breathe very well, but I forced myself to continue.

A few minutes later, her body shook and juices from her vagina shot into my mouth. She moaned as loud as she could in her orgasm. I reluctantly swallowed the juices, afraid she would do something to me if I didn't. She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me up to face her.

"Good girl," she congratulated. She yanked my hair and pulled me off of her bed. My skirt fell down and I was glad at least that part of me was covered. "Now get out of my sight. I don't want to see you until dinner time." I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yes, Mama," I said quietly.

I hurriedly left her room and went into my own. I shut the door and locked it behind me. I went straight to my bathroom and turned on the water in my shower. I took my skirt off and unhooked my bra. I watched it fall to the floor. Then I sat on my shower floor and hugged my knees tightly, letting the water fall on me.

I started crying softly as the water beat against my bare skin. I remember silently chanting the word "unclean" for at least an hour. I felt dirty every time she touched me. Every time she caressed my skin and kissed my lips, I felt like nothing more than common whore.

I held my mouth open to the shower nozzle and practically drowned myself as I tried to cleanse my mouth. That day was the single most worst day of my life. My mother had never done anything like this before and I prayed to myself she never would again.

That was also the day I lost my faith in God. If He loved me like the preachers said He did, then why would He let Mama treat me like this? Why would He take my daddy from me? Why did He have to put me here? Did He really think I deserved this life? I wondered every day for the rest of my life about that question.

By age thirteen, Mama started hitting me. At that age, I started refusing to do what she wanted me to. I was tired of sitting in my shower every night after she touched me. I was tired of feeling like a whore. I stopped letting her have her way with me and that pissed her off. When she wanted to play another of her "games" and I said no, she would get angry. Most nights she'd hit me with her hands. Other nights she would improvise and hit me with brushes, spoons, or any other objects she could find.

I remember the day I called the cops, too. It started in my first 7th grade class of the day. I was taking a test and it got really hot in my classroom. I had a hoodie on but I couldn't keep it on. I wasn't focusing on anything but my test, that's why I took my hoodie off; I forgot all about my bruises. I sat the rest of my testing period with my arms exposed to the world.

My teacher called me after class so she could talk to me. "Is everything okay at home?" she asked me. I smiled. "Of course," I lied. "What makes you think that, Ms. Gable?" Ms. Gable crossed her arms. "Show me your arms then," she demanded. "I don't want to," I said quietly.

Ms. Gable grabbed my arm gently and rolled up my sleeve to expose the purple-ish bruises covering them. "Who did this to you?" she asked softly. I sighed. "You won't say anything will you?" I asked in return.

Ms. Gable sat in her chair and gently pulled me close to her. "I have to tell the police," she told me. "Whoever did this to you needs to be put away for a long time. Now who did this to you?"

I sighed and looked away from her. "It was my mother," I told her.

I don't remember a lot of what else happened that day, but I remember I had to stay the rest of the night at Ms. Gable's house. She told me my mom was going to a place where people could help her fix her life. The next day my aunt and uncle would move into my old house and take care of me.

I was watching TV and the news program came on. "Breaking news: A local molestation case gone wrong. Resident Alicia DeSousa was being taken into custody on accusations of her own daughter when she attacked one of the apprehending officers. DeSousa stabbed said officer and broke for her car. She managed to get to downtown Westfield before the police caught up with her and brought her into custody. Now not only is DeSousa being charged with molestation, but with attempted murder and resistance of law. I'm Todd Turner with the seven o'clock news. Thank you and good night."

My mother had been taken to jail, and she had tried to kill a policeman to save her own ass. She was a monster. She was horrible. Words couldn't really described how much I..._hated_ her for everything she'd done. Not only had she mentally scarred me for life, but she had left me without a loving parent. My aunt and uncle, they were no Swiss Family Robinson.

I never had a normal life, and I never will. This will always be my past. We can't all be perfect, though.

I probably should have told you my name before I told you my life's story.

My name is Bianca DeSousa and I am now seventeen years old. I haven't seen my mother in four years, but I guess that's a blessing. Thanks to the government, I was able to get therapy to become "normal." When my mother left me, she left me with a fear of women ten years older than me. A little silly, but I'm over it now.

The good news is: I start my new school today. I get to see new people and maybe make a few new friends.


	2. Chapter 2

Well would you looky here! It's a long awaited update! I'm not too sure where I wanna go with this story, but I do know at the same time... I would have had this story up yesterday, but I was _really_ sick yesterday.

Anyway, leave a review and tell me what you think!

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><p>"<strong>Chapter 2"<strong>

I stand outside the front of the school and take in a deep breath. This month's foster parents dropped me off without even bothering to say goodbye. (They're gonna ship me off to another family by the end of the week, so I guess it doesn't matter; I overheard them talking about it the night before.) I take in another deep breath then make my way to the front door as some students eye me curiously; I'm used to people staring, though, so it doesn't bother me.

"Hey, Pretty Lady," a voice calls out to me once I step foot in the school. I look to my right to see a boy in baggy jeans, a gray shirt, and a black jean jacket lounging on one of the benches inside. I smile flirtatiously at him because, honestly, he's kinda cute. "Sup?" I ask coolly. The boy gets up in one swift motion and makes his way over to me. "So you're a new student," he announces; I nod. "You got a name?" I know this game; I simply smirk. "You tell me yours first," I bargain. The boy smirks back at me. "I like your style," he tells me. "They call me Fitz." He grabs my hand and kisses it; I almost blush. "They call _me_ Bianca," I breathe.

Another boy, tall and muscular with cropped brown hair and stunning blue eyes, walks up to Fitz and nudges him after he gets a good look at me. "Who's your friend?" he asks, nodding suggestively at me. Fitz ignores the new boy's nod and keeps his eyes on me. "This is Bianca," he answers. "She's new here." The boy pushes Fitz out of the way and grabs my hand, taking a slight bow. "Allow me to grace you with my presence," he states with pride. I chuckle as he continues to speak. "I'm Owen Milligan," he continues. "And it's an _honor_ to meet someone as beautiful as you."

This time, I blush.

"So who wants to show me around?" I ask with a cool smirk. Fitz and Owen push at each other, trying to get the other away from me. As I chuckle at the two, I overhear a girl behind me gossiping. "Look at those two idiots fighting over the new girl," she hisses. "I can see it now: she's gonna get caught up with them and wind up just like them; she looked bad from the moment she walked in." There is a rustling, followed by a small thud, as well as a small pained noise. "It's not polite to talk about people like that," another voice reprimands. "She looks pretty nice to me." I smile softly and turn around to pretend like I'm looking at someone else.

Both girls quickly turn their heads as I turn mine and pretend like they're laughing about something else. There's a girl with long, brown hair that she wears down the length of her back, a black headband topping the ensemble. She wears thin glasses, somewhat stylish, as well as loose clothing like she's trying to hide something. She was probably the one bad-mouthing me.

Then I finally look at her.

The girl the brunette is has long blonde hair that comes an inch or two past her shoulders and she parts her hair on the left, tucking her bangs behind her right ear. Her face looks soft with those big blue eyes of hers. She's maybe a few inches shorter than me, but she's full in all the right places. God, what I would do to her body…

Wait!

What the hell is wrong with me? I can't think that about a _girl_. I'm _straight_, totally and undoubtedly _straight_. The hell?

"Bianca," Fitz calls to me, snapping me from my thoughts. I quickly turn back around to see Owen sitting down and holding his face with an angered look. Fitz holds out his hand to me. "May I have the pleasure of walking you to your first class?"

My eyes widen softly. I don't even know what my first class is!

"We'll have to take a detour," I announce. "I need to stop by the principal's office to get my schedule." Fitz nods and escorts me to the principal's office where I have a brief conversation with him about what I want to gain from coming to Degrassi and blah, blah, blah. After that, Fitz and I look over my schedule and he takes me to my first period math class.

Honestly, I don't care what we're learning about. All I care about is that girl I saw—the blonde one, not her childish friend—and why I feel so…strange. I've seen thousands of girls over the course of time that I've been in the System and she's the one that's had the most impact. Why? What's so special about _her_?

I spend my next few classes thinking of her, (poorly) drawing her and me together, thinking of what her name is. I can't get her out of my head!

Then lunch comes around.

Part of me hopes I won't have her in my lunch, but I don't know how the lunch schedule works here. The other part of me desperately wants her to be in my lunch just so I can look at her and—one day—get the nerve to talk to her.

I see her sitting with her friends: a tall boy in a hat with shortish brown hair pushed to the side in one of those emo hairstyles, a girl with long black hair and big eyes who looks like she's Indian, and the brunette prude. She's laughing with them as she eats her chicken fingers. I can hear that laugh over the roar of the other students; it sounds like wind chimes in a cool breeze.

"Bianca," Owen calls to me, forcing my eyes from her table. I raise an eyebrow to him. "I asked if you'd rather have me escort you to the rest of your classes instead of this fool here," he says. I shrug nonchalantly. "Whatever works for you too," I retort with my eyes on my food.

Fitz wraps an arm around my shoulders and I look at his greasy fingernails hanging over my right shoulder. "What's wrong, Pretty Lady?" he questions. I sigh; I honestly don't know _what's_ wrong with me exactly.

"Nothing," I lie.

I look up to him to see him staring down my shirt. Instead of causing a scene like I should have done, I take his arm off me and stand up with my tray. "I'm not that hungry," I announce as I start walking. I stare at my tray as I walk, trying to think of anything but her. Why can't I think of _anything_ but her?

As I walk, someone bumps into me and makes me dump my tray all over my shirt. "Look what you did to my shirt you freak!" I exclaim trying to wipe off the peas and chicken crumbs from my shirt. I look up to the someone and see she's the Indian girl that sat with the blonde girl. I look to my left to see her and her other two friends looking up at me with shocked expressions. Shit.

I quickly decide to play it off.

"Outta my way," I growl with a hard face as I push past her. I end up pushing her against the table and she lets out a pained gasp. Dammit! I didn't mean to hit her _that _hard.

I fast walk out of the cafeteria to the bathroom where I try to clean my shirt off. Not only do I have peas and chicken crumbs on it, but there's a hell of a lot of milk and some other brown stuff; I don't know _what_ the hell that is.

"Are you alright?" a voice asks of me. I jump slightly and turn to see her standing at the bathroom door with her hands clasped in front of her. Under the fluorescent lights in this tight space, she looks like an angel.

"What's it to you?" I spit. If I'm anything but nice to her, maybe she'll run away from me and I won't have to worry about thinking of her anymore.

"Well the whole cafeteria just saw what happened to you and I thought you could use some help," she answered softly. Her voice was calm, even under the harshness of my voice.

"I'm fine," I lie as I turn back to the mirror. "Just leave me alone alright? I'm sure your little brunette friend doesn't want me talking to you."

"Clare?" she questions. "She's just not used to new people here." I sneer. "I could've sworn I said leave me _alone_," I repeat. From the corner of my eye, I see her jump at the loudness of my voice. She quickly retreats from the bathroom, but before she goes, she speaks again. "My name's Jenna by the way."

I roll my eyes. Great, now she's told me her name. Now I won't be able to get that out of my head. "Bianca," I snippily retort. The door closes and I spend a few more minutes messing with my shirt. I don't even know if she heard me.

After a few minutes, I give up hope. I might as well go home and get a new shirt, then come back to finish out the day. With any luck, the family I'm with will keep me a little longer so I can stay here a little longer and get to know Jenna. If I don't skip school, maybe I'll influence their decision to let me stay with them.

"I think you missed a spot," Fitz jokes as I step out of the bathroom. I sneer with a grin and flip him off. "You got a car?" I question, quickly changing the subject. "I need to get out of here." Fitz nods to the left and holds his hand out. "Right this way, Milady."

I start walking and he leads me to his car in the parking lot. "Going to your place?" he questions. I mumble a yes and there's an awkward silence. "I just need to get a new shirt," I add. "Then it's back to school." Fitz chuckles. "I never knew anybody who _wanted_ to go to school."

"I'm trying to be good right now so the foster 'rents don't kick me out," I retort with a roll of my eyes. "You're free to skip school if you want though." Fitz smirks as we climb into his beat up, red, dingy, 1988 Chevy. "I've got other things in mind," he says.

I should've known right then to get out of his car and run back into the school, dirty clothes and all.

Fitz starts driving the car and when we're so close to my house he turns off the path. "Where are we going?" I ask calmly. "Just a detour," he retorts, not taking his eyes from the road. A few minutes later we arrive at a small house with dark green wood surrounding it and a brick underlay.

Fitz pulls into the driveway and turns off the car. "My sister's about your size," he tells me as he gets out. "I'm sure you'll find something you'll like; she won't miss anything." I smile at his kindness and follow him inside, closing the front door behind me.

"You can change in my room," he states as he points to the door at the end of the hall. "I'll go pick something out for you." I laugh softly. "I'm sure I can get it myself," I assure him. Fitz shakes his head. "No, no I'll get it," he insists. "Only I'm allowed in Jessica's room. I won't be too long." With that, I make my way to his room and stand in the center, taking note of everything in his room.

Before I can get a full view of all his stupid posters on the wall, the door to his room opens and he steps in. He holds a black shirt crumpled in his hand as he steps inside the room.

"Thanks again for the shirt," I thank, reaching my hand out to grab it. Instead, Fitz places the shirt on his dresser and grabs my hand. He brings my hand to his mouth and brushes his lips across my fingertips. "What are you doing?" I question nervously. "I just think we should take some time to get to know each other more," he suggests.

His hand slinks up my arm and he pulls me closer to him. He kisses my arm and his lips start trailing up the length of my arm to my shoulder and my neck until, finally, my lips. He kisses me forcefully for a moment before his hands slide down to my dirtied shirt. I put my hands on his in the hopes to stop him. "No," I breathe.

Fitz chuckles softly in my ear and breathes hot air onto it. "Don't worry," he starts, "I'll be gentle." He kisses my earlobe. "I won't hurt you, Butterfly."

My back arches and all the memories of my mother assaulting me come flooding back to me. Every touch, every kiss, every beating, it's all back and standing before me in the form of this boy. I…I don't want this.

"No!" I shout at the top of my lungs, pushing him away. "Get away from me!" Fitz grabs at my hands and pulls me back to him. "What the hell are you doing?" he growls. "Don't fucking pull away from me, bitch." I struggle in his grasp and feel the tears beginning to fall. "Please let me go," I beg.

Instead of listening, he throws me against his dresser and my head hits the wall. "Don't _ever_ say no to me," he spits. He grabs the brim of my pants with one hand while placing the other on the back of my head and rips them down. His hand removes from my now lowered pants and move to his belt. He quickly unbuckles his pants and pulls his dick out. He presses it against my ass; he's already hard.

"If you woulda listened," he begins, "Then we both coulda had some fun."

Tears fall from eyes as the blistering pain surges through my head. I clench my eyes shut and try to brace myself for what's about to happen.

Without any warning, he thrusts himself into me and I let out a loud scream of pain. My nails dig into the sides of his dresser and I can feel my hands turning white with strain. Fitz pulls my shirt up under my arms and pulls my bra up as well, cupping my breasts as he continues to thrust inside me.

My mother…

This is worse than my mother…

"Please stop!" I scream as he thrusts harder, ramming me against the dresser. One of his hands releases one of my breasts and he grabs me by my hair. He pulls my head back and slams it against the wall, sending more pain through my head. "Shut the fuck up," he hisses darkly.

I try to focus on the searing pain in my head, anything to block him out.

The hand that grabbed me by the hair moves to my waist then both of his hands squeeze me tightly as he releases his disgusting, warm fluid inside me with a loud grunt. He pulls out of me and throws me to the ground, tossing the new shirt on top of me. "Clean yourself up and get the hell out," he orders.

He walks over to his bed and plops down on it as I slowly climb to my feet. "If you walk fast I'm sure you'll get back to school before three," he tells me as I fix my pants. I don't bother saying a word to him and leave his room. Before I leave the house, I quickly change into the red V-neck shirt Fitz gave me.

I cling to myself as I leave his home, scuffling along the sidewalk. As I walk, the pain in my head continues to throb violently. My hand reaches up to my forehead and I feel something warm on my fingertips. I pull my hand from my head to find crimson coloring my fingers. Great, now I'm bleeding. This can't get any worse, can it?

"Bianca?" a familiar voice calls out to me. My body stiffens and I stop in my tracks. I just _had_ to ask, didn't I?

Shit. I can't let her see me like this; I can't let her know what happened. She doesn't need to know…

I plaster a scowl on my face and turn to her. "What do you want?" I spit. Her big blue eyes look to me in shock. "Oh my gosh," she breathes. She climbs out of her car and rushes to me. "What happened to your head, Bianca?" She reaches her hand out to touch my cut but I slap her hand away. "I tripped," I lie.

I cross my arms. "Shouldn't you be at school right now?" I question. I try to make it sound as harsh as possible; maybe then she'll leave me alone. "I had to go home and pick up my song book," she tells me, totally oblivious to my harsh words. I roll my eyes.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted a ride back to school," she offers. I feel shivers rush through me. She wants me in her _car_! I…I can't! How can I be in such a small space with her? I can't do it!

I'd really rather not _walk_ back to school though…

"I've got nothing better to do," I say coolly as I climb into the passenger's seat. She quickly makes her way around the car and into the driver's seat. I cross my arms as she drives, trying not to look at her.

Why am I thinking this way about a _girl_?

"I like your shirt," she mutters softly. I could barely hear her over the sound of the motor, so I'm not sure if she said anything in the first place. I decide not to respond.

We arrive at the school a few minutes later, after a silent ride, and we get out of the car. "Thanks for the ride," I mumble without looking back at her. I make my way into the school just as classes are changing and merge with the crowd.

The rest of the day, I can't stop thinking of that blonde angel named Jenna…


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh hi! So, I know this is supposed to be a dark story, but it's gotta have some light somewhere right? This is a little short, but I hope you guys like it. Tell me what you think in the reviews!**

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><p><strong>"Chapter 3"<strong>

My foster dad, David, picks me up when school's out. He's really nice to me and I really like him. Miriam, my foster mom, doesn't like that he spends so much time with me; she doesn't think it's right. She thinks he's having an affair, and she thinks he's having that affair with me.

All he's doing is trying to be a good dad.

David doesn't touch me unless it's a hug, and even then, it isn't a handsy hug. He doesn't look at me like my 'mother' used to and he's a generally good person.

Miriam just hates me.

She hates me so much that there's a Social Services transportation car outside my foster home by the time David and I get home.

"I didn't want to tell you," he mutters softly as we pull into the driveway.

I shake my head. "Whatever," I sigh as I climb out of the car. This happens once every week, two weeks at the most. It's a routine that I've fallen into by force; nothing new.

As soon as I slam the door, Miriam comes out with my suitcases in tow. The social worker, Melinda, helps her load my things into the back of the car. As she passes me, Miriam gives me a nasty look. I return it with the same level of distaste as I climb into the front seat of Melinda's car. I give a small wave to David and he goes to return it, but Miriam grabs his hand and leads him inside. He looks at me with saddened eyes.

This has always been a wordless process.

I didn't like that stupid two story house with a pool in the back, kids my age down the street, my own room, and a fridge full of food anyway.

Part of me wonders what Miriam took from my stuff. Every time I'm reassigned, someone—usually the _actual_ daughter or the mother—steals something from me. Normally it's a shirt or a bra or jeans, but one time it was my mp3 player. I know she didn't get that, though, because it's in my pocket with my phone.

Melinda hardly ever speaks to me as she drives me to my new 'homes.'

I don't ever speak to her.

After five minutes of a silent ride—her radio is broken—we pull up into a small neighborhood with children running around on front lawns playing with balls and bats and anything else they can get their hands on. All the houses stand in lines—total Stepford Wives thing—looking exactly the same. There are a few trees, but they're the huge kind that've been around for like four hundred years or something and would destroy at least two houses if there were ever a big gust of wind.

Melinda passes those houses and I count them off as I ride. Before we get to the heart of this neighborhood, I count fifteen Stepford houses on my side alone. Then we pull up to this big house that sits facing the car whereas the other houses have parallel faces. It's like a cul-de-sac or whatever it's called where there's one house in the middle of a bunch of houses in a neighborhood.

This house is like four stories tall, two stories taller than the other houses. The bricks are a dull gray with bits of white or yellow—some bright color—swirling all over them to give them color. I can see bits and pieces of a fairly long pool on either side of the house. In the driveway sits two large gas guzzling cars under a tin shed thing.

Once we pull into the driveway, Melinda cuts the engine and gets out. She moves to the trunk, but I continue to stare at the house.

It's…so _beautiful_…

Someone taps on my window and I jump in shock. I turn to find a very handsome boy smiling at me. Strands of his shaggy black hair are in his face, like he's given up trying to move them away. His lips are perfect…like they'd melt away my own if we ever touched because mine are unworthy.

His eyes…

They're the same blue as _hers_…

They're so big and full of life and they shine with a light I've never seen before. But then again, I have… They're the same as hers… But, how is that possible?

"Are you gonna stare all day or are you gonna get out?" the boy questions with a wide smirk. I blink and gasp slightly before opening the door. The boy steps back and closes the door behind me once I'm out.

"You must be Bianca," he assumes.

I nod softly. "The one and only," I announce. "And you are?"

"Your new brother," Melinda answers as she brings me my bags. I look to her, and then back to him.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time I'd slept with a foster sibling…

Melinda gestures my bags to me and I take them. But as soon as they touch my hands, the boy grabs them and takes them from me. "Let me help you," he insists. I smile warmly at him as Melinda hands me the rest of my stuff.

The boy turns to her. "My parents are out back with the barbeque if you wanna talk to them," he informs her. "They might even ask if you want to stay for a burger; my dads are very friendly when it comes to food."

I raise my eyebrow in confusion. "Dads?" I repeat. "Like with an s on the end?"

The boy turns back to me and nods his head to the house. "Let's go put your stuff up," he suggests. He starts walking and I follow him while Melinda heads to the back of the house.

"You don't have a problem with my father being married to another man do you?"

The question takes me by surprise and I choke on a bit of air before I speak. I clear my throat and I think I hear him chuckle slightly. "I don't have a problem," I answer. "It's just…this is my first time living with a gay couple."

The boy laughs softly as he leads me up the stairs. "It's my first time living with a gay couple too," he says, "And it's my only time."

He looks back at me with a wide smile. "Craig and Dylan adopted me when I was two months old," he announces. "I've been with them ever since."

I sigh sadly, thinking about his words. It would have been nice if a couple had taken me in and kept me from the first moment I entered The System. It would have been nice if I woke up in the same house every day for four years to the same people.

It would have been nicer if God had given me a different mother…

"My name's Levi, by the way," he announces as I reach the top of the stairs. He heads to a room at the end of the hall and I follow him without any words. "And this is _your_ room. Craig and Dylan wanted you to have the best one in the house; it overlooks the pool in the backyard and the orchard."

I gasp slightly.

An orchard? I've never seen an orchard! I should have moved in with a gay couple years ago!

"Thanks for helping me out," I thank as Levi puts my bags on my bed. It's already got a black and white comforter on it as well as black and white pillows. It's a king sized bed, big enough to fit four of me!

This has got to be the best foster home _ever_!

"It's my pleasure," Levi tells me. He steps up to me and brushes his hand against my cheek. "If you need anything else," he begins with seducing eyes, "Don't hesitate." He smirks then turns on his heels, leaving me to enjoy my new room.

Oh…

My…

God…

That was like…_the_ hottest thing ever, even for my standards.

Once Levi heads down the stairs, I immediately jump onto my bed, sprawling out over it. It's so big that my feet don't even hang off the side! It's so comfortable, too…like it's got a memory foam mattress or something. The sheets smell like they're freshly washed, like spring time. I flip onto my stomach and lie there sprawled out, taking in the glorious smell of my new sheets.

The orchard!

I scramble off my bed and go to the window. Before I look out, I see the tops of gorgeous trees. When I look out, I see rows and rows of them lining the backyard and they're full of big red apples. When I look down, I see the full extent of the pool; it's ten times larger than that pitiful excuse for a pool at my old house and I can just picture all the fun I'll have in it. Oh! Maybe I'll invite—

No. I'm not gonna mention her name again.

I see Levi downstairs by a barbeque station with Melinda and the men I assume are my new dads; looks like she decided to stay for a burger after all. The one flipping burgers is at least a foot taller, I guess, than Melinda with freshly pushed back blonde hair. I think the other one is maybe, half a foot shorter than the blonde guy, and his hair is a really light brown.

Levi looks up to my window and smiles broadly, exposing his…perfect teeth. He nudges the brunette man and he looks up as well. He smiles, too, and motions for me to come back down. The blonde looks up too and motions as well, waving his spatula. I smile and make my way downstairs.

I think I'm gonna like it here.


End file.
